


smile // simmer

by imperiality



Series: Hope . . Have (Works Inspired by Batmorphy) [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Prose Poem, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 12:24:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12748254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperiality/pseuds/imperiality
Summary: The night is kind once they will it to beThe day is short once they share it





	smile // simmer

**Author's Note:**

> this second piece is inspired by [ this particular art](https://batmorphy.tumblr.com/post/167529038089).  
> maybe one day a real story will want to be borne of my hands instead of directionless happenings? this is what... this is just what's coming easiest to me. i don't think i've had this much fun writing in a while.
> 
> enjoy!

The nights are so long. The nights are so terribly long and yet the days are longer still. Every sun that rises reminds Allura she is no longer going to be greeted by Altea’s. There will never be another cloud that belongs to her.

Keith likes seeing the different sunsets, sunrises. He recalls empty sunsets passing spent alone (not lonely) with just the wailing cicadas and distant plane engines to nurse him to sleep. Rattling rocks became his lullaby in the desert. He tucked himself in. He recalls dry, brittle desert sunsets, but likens them not to alien horizons.

He still tucks himself in, but his mind sings a new song.

Allura makes the night shorter for Keith. 

He makes the days easier for her.

Missions come and go and their steps grow wearier, but he knows he can still return home to her.

In his mind, sirens and thrashes of _too close! too close! too close!_ condemn their whipping lashes. At this point? He can damn his own mind straight to hell. (Let the whips tangle. Let their handles _fray let his scars_ ** _heal_**. The snap against his shoulders and back will echo no more.)

He fights, resists, forces himself against the parts of him that say _don’t get too close_. 

He moves himself closer.

Keith knows in time Allura is only bound to push him away. He keeps her even nearer.

If he can’t fall _into_ her arms when they return to their hangars after Voltron- he can wait until he takes off his armor, she takes off hers, they meet in the lounge room, the night dawns again- and he can be lifted _by_ her arms.

Keith doesn’t know how much plating, under-armor, how much of _himself_ he’ll need to unmount to feel her coursing pulse with his. Until the time comes when he can carry her warmth on his fingertips, he can taste her kiss on his lips, he can embrace her fully, completely and whole- he’ll trace every sinuous outline of hers to their fullest extent.

(Yet with each part of her body explored, he knows there’s so much of Allura still yet to be explored.)

He likes knowing the depths of her eyes to begin with. He doesn’t know if he wishes he could say he sees the anguish of millennia within them. _He doesn’t._ He doesn’t know if he wants to accept the weight of the war before them, sewn into their lines. _He won’t_. He just likes the sparkle in them. He’s hypnotized by their expression in turn.

Beholding the kindling power only thinly hidden beneath Allura’s battle suit is what scintillates Keith the most. (He lives to be bested by her.)

But sometimes he lets his thoughts run away from him, so she’ll grab his cheek and say _enough of that_. And he’ll come back down to Earth.

Which is an expression quickly losing its merit on Keith. Especially when he never belonged to Earth to begin with. Especially when Earth was never something worth returning to. 

Keith will never get enough of returning to Allura.

When the days grow too long and nights torment too much, Keith will sing her new lullabies to tuck themselves in with. He sings songs of loneliness, longing and loss. He sings her hushed melodies of things he’s long forgotten after meeting Allura.

In her battle suit she’ll sleep in front of him dreaming of home, belonging and hope. (She hears a voice call to her, husky and careful. She hears songs of new beginnings, of joy and of love.) All things she’ll realize to re-learn from meeting Keith.

He’ll brush his thumb over her knuckles. Her mice will keep them company. She’ll rest with nary a care in the world. (Or perhaps, the galaxy.) Her soft, even breaths might have been enough to tempt Keith to sleep as well, if only he could forget that each moment asleep is another moment not enjoying her company.

Keith will think, _at last._

In these little ways he thinks he can finally repay her. For all the frivolous times he’s injured himself and she’s cared for him. (Care in the way of carrying him through the entire castle when he busted his ankle.) For every sweet, needling and innocently infuriating word that makes him blush.

_Is it the human or Galran blood that floods his cheeks?_

Is it the human or Galra in him that doesn’t want to will it back down?

If he can’t make her heart race like she does his, he can help put her heart at _ease_. Sleep comes easy to her. Sunsets come easy to him.

For her, his voice can come easy to him and for him, her smiles will come easy to her. So will her embraces and beckoning. For all her touches are _full_ and _indulgent_. She will always indulge their embraces first. Harder. She holds him like she never wants to let go. She tightens her frame. She is small in Keith’s arms.

He is intoxicated by her touch. He’ll initiate a brush to her hand, a hand down her arm, an arm around her shoulder- then. Stop. He stops lest he overwhelms himself. He stops lest Allura finally stops him first.

He keeps himself on a tight leash, but everyday a new thread is more taught and more tested.

He is drunk.

He is hopeless.

He hopes he’ll have the time to explore Allura like she deserves to be. (Like the way he wants to.)

If her deep sighs are anything to go by. If her thin exhales are any indication. If the way she grabs his hand in instigation, the way she mindlessly threads their legs together as they commune- he wants to be able to work his way up to handling the fullness of her pleasure.

Well.

The extent of her intimacy.

He learns to hope for shorter days that bleed for longer nights. (If only for the sake of the chance to learn. To coalesce.) 

He shares sunsets in all their rich, savory glory with someone whose nights can turn to days with only one song more.

Keith learns to lay in Allura’s gentle, drowsy voice as she asks,

_Sing one more, Keith._

_You need to rest too, Keith._

_Thank you, Keith._

He can return and acquiesce it all. He can return a song, rest himself, say you’re welcome.

Once the night is through.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr for those interested^^](https://chickadeecrowns.tumblr.com) I would love to hear from you!


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